Lady Catherine de Bourgh held firm, if occasionally contradictory, opinions on balls and dancing; it was not generally known, however, that she derived particular satisfaction from observing the dancers themselves, and from noting, with quiet attentiveness, the manners and interactions through which character so often revealed itself.
As the minutes passed, tea was refreshed once more, and Lady Catherine continued her examination, returning repeatedly to the subject of Colonel Fitzwilliam—his prospects,his influence, his suitability for advancement, and the advantages of family alliances conducted with foresight rather than impulse. Each mention of his name was accompanied by an expectation not spoken aloud, and Georgiana bore it with a composure that did not falter, though the effort of it was plain to those who knew how to look.
At length, Lady Catherine set aside her cup with decision. “I am satisfied,” she declared. “You have been made aware of my intentions, and you will conduct yourselves accordingly.” She rose.
Mrs. Darcy followed at once. Mr. Darcy stood, and the remaining guests followed his example. Georgiana rose last, her movements unhurried, her expression serene.
Mr. Collins bowed repeatedly, expressing his gratitude in terms so extended that Lady Catherine was obliged to interrupt him.
“That will suffice, Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine said at last, raising one hand with a decisive air that permitted no further elaboration. “We shall see one another tomorrow.”
Mr. Collins, who had already drawn breath to continue, stopped short and bowed again, this time with an air of earnest regret. “Your ladyship,” he said, “it grieves me exceedingly to confess that I shall not have the honour of attending the assembly in person. My wife’s condition requires my constant attention, and our little boy has been particularly unsettled of late. I could not, in good conscience, leave them, however keenly I feel the distinction of your invitation.”
Lady Catherine regarded him for a moment, her expression thoughtful rather than displeased, as though she were weighing duty against ceremony and finding the former, on this occasion, admissible.
“Very well,” her ladyship said at length. “A clergyman’s first responsibility is to his household, and I should be the last to encourage neglect under such circumstances. Mrs. Collins’s health must, of course, be attended to with proper seriousness.” She inclined her head slightly, granting the matter closure. “You will convey my good wishes to her, and assure her that I expect a full account of her recovery when next we meet.”
Mr. Collins bowed yet again, visibly relieved. “Your ladyship is most considerate. Mrs. Collins will be deeply gratified by your concern.”
“I trust she will,” Lady Catherine replied. “And now, gentlemen, we shall proceed without further delay.”
As the party took its leave, James Bennet felt the unmistakable sensation of having been weighed and placed precisely where Lady Catherine intended, while Elias, glancing once toward Georgiana, understood that she had not escaped scrutiny, but had met it without surrender.
Lady Catherine had spoken at length. She had commanded. She had arranged. And yet, in a single measured sentence, Georgiana Darcy had reminded her that obedience and acquiescence were not the same thing.
At Rosings, that distinction mattered. Even when no one chose to acknowledge it aloud.
***
The carriage rolled away from Rosings Park with a steadiness that belied the stir of impressions left behind, its wheels settling once more into the familiar ruts of the road toward Hunsford. The evening air had cooled just enough to soften the heat of the day, and through the open window came the scent of hedgerowand mown grass, soothing after the ordered severity of Lady Catherine’s drawing room.
For a few moments, none of the gentlemen spoke. Mr. Collins sat very upright upon the forward seat, his hands folded as though still in attendance upon his august patroness, while James and Elias occupied the opposite side, each turned inward upon his own reflections.
It was Mr. Collins who first broke the silence, drawing a careful breath, as though even now his words required proper arrangement.
“Well,” he began, with an air of solemn satisfaction, “I trust you will agree, my dear cousins, that her ladyship’s intentions could not have been more clearly or more judiciously expressed. Few assemblies are planned with such foresight, or with such regard for the moral and social improvement of all concerned.”
James allowed himself the faintest smile. “One could hardly mistake her purpose,” he replied. “Whether one approves of it, of course, is another matter.”
Mr. Collins inclined his head, accepting the remark as philosophical rather than critical. “Purpose, Mr. James, is the very foundation of propriety. Where there is no purpose, there can be no order. And order, as her ladyship has often observed, is the true measure of civilisation.”
Elias Bennet glanced toward the window, then back again, his expression thoughtful rather than amused. “It is certainly an evening that will reward careful observation,” he said. “I doubt any person present tomorrow will be left in uncertainty as to their place, or their prospects.”
“Quite so,” Mr. Collins agreed eagerly. “And in that regard, I was particularly gratified to hear her ladyship speak so highly of Colonel Fitzwilliam. A most exemplary gentleman, I assureyou. His friendship with Mr. Darcy is of the closest and most enduring kind—formed, as I understand it, not merely through family connection, but through mutual respect and a shared sense of duty.”
James glanced at Elias. “You know him well?”
“I have had the honour of his acquaintance on several occasions,” Mr. Collins replied, warming to his subject. “He is a man of excellent principles, most attentive in his manners, and possessed of that rare combination of modesty and consequence which does him the greatest credit. His military service has been conducted with distinction, and his attachment to Mr. Darcy speaks volumes, for my noble cousin does not bestow his confidence lightly.”
Elias nodded. “Lady Catherine seems convinced that his advancement is all but assured.”
“And with good reason,” Mr. Collins said firmly. “Such merit cannot go unrecognised, particularly when supported by a family so well placed. I should not be surprised if we hear of his preferment very soon indeed. Her ladyship would never speak so confidently without excellent grounds.”
James shifted slightly upon the seat. “Her ladyship speaks confidently on many subjects.”
Mr. Collins smiled, undeterred. “True—but in this instance, I believe her judgment entirely sound. Colonel Fitzwilliam is precisely the sort of gentleman whose presence lends distinction to an assembly. His conduct tomorrow will, I am certain, reflect the greatest credit upon Rosings and upon the family at large.”
He paused for a moment, then added with careful emphasis, “And upon those invited.”
